As a chump watching the new HBO Sex in the City reboot, And Just Like That, must feel akin to a black person watching Gone With the Wind — Now THAT is some bullshit.
Can’t you just get over it and enjoy the fashion moment of Scarlet creating a ball gown out of old curtains?
Uh… her snappy outfit cannot transcend the whole lost-cause-civil-war-Mammy mindfuckery.
But, but… it’s ROMANTIC!
I am that killjoy.
Some friends invited me over last night to hang out and we watched a couple episodes. Neither friend has ever been chumped. So they suffer no such discomfort watching ridiculous chump stereotypes — it’s just light entertainment. (As it would’ve been for me as well, pre-D-Day. Hello, Bridges of Madison County.)
But now I am free to snark. So, spoiler alert (on the off chance you’re going to watch this).
Carrie Bradshaw has triumphed. She won the sparkly turd and married Mr. Big. And her eternal reward is an airplane hanger-sized closet to house all her Manolo Blahniks. #priorities
Back story: Mr. Big was previously married to Natasha and Carrie was the OW. But it’s okay, as Charlotte points out because “Big loved you first” — so, it’s not really cheating. Hahahahaha. Even though Natasha met Big in ANOTHER COUNTRY, absent Carrie, it doesn’t matter — Natasha should’ve been aware of Carrie’s cosmic claim on Big’s heart.
Bullshit narrative #1 — it’s the chump’s fault. Stop being an obstacle to their happiness!
So then an epic pick-me-dance spooled out over god knows how many seasons/films where Big “commits” to Carrie, but then bails. At one point leaving her at the altar because, I don’t know, he has a rare jazz LP to listen to in a haze of cigar smoke while profiting off the subprime mortgage crisis. (He Is In Finance. #ooh)
But then Big hoovers. (No, we don’t call it hoovering, we call it ROMANCE.) And he wins Carrie back!
They marry. Twu Wuv. And have many blissful years with their matching ridiculous closets, when Big keels over. Heart attack.
Pick me dance with the great hereafter, Carrie.
My point is Natasha, our chump.
Carrie must stalk her to find out why Big left her money in his will. And finally corners her in a coffee shop.
Bullshit narrative #2 — Natasha is saintly.
She doesn’t want the money!
Bullshit narrative #3 — Natasha’s compassion surpasseth all understanding.
Is Natasha allowed any pain or upset at being stalked by Carrie? No! Carries’ discomfort is what matters most — she has a boo boo! Natasha, perfect mother that she is, immediately helps dress the wound and improvises an ice pack.
A skill which Carrie — who creates entire outfits out of thrift store detritus — cannot do.
Natasha offers succor for Carrie’s loss.
Bullshit narrative #4 — Natasha is sorry.
But it’s not enough that Natasha must play caregiver to the woman who fucked her husband. Nope, she APOLOGIZES to Carrie. And confesses, that yes, Carrie is the One Big Really Loved.
“I’ll never understand why he married me when he was always in love with you.”
Uh, because he’s a fuckwit? Because he didn’t love anyone except his narcissistic, commitment-phobe self? Because he thrilled to the power trip?
No, people! Natasha must bow and scrape and recognize the superiority of Carrie in Big’s affections.
Not to be outdone, Carrie is sorry too. “For everything.”
For wearing a tutu after age 50? For letting her Manolos get wet? Hey, a nebulous apology can go any way you imagine it. The point is, the Heart Wants What the Heart Wants, and Natasha understands that now and has apologized.
But she draws one boundary:
Carrie must not follow her on Instagram.
Tracy, I don’t know, that’s a really excruciating punishment. However did Natasha get so uppity? Must we give her a boundary? Natasha should give her boundary away to a deserving orphan along with that million dollars she’s too noble to accept. And then she and Carrie should become friends, united in their Love of Mr. Big and the patriarchy. And wear snazzy outfits.
That might be next season. I won’t know.